Like This
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: He supposed, in the end, it was always going to be like this. Wars had born Ludwig, and wars would consume him. / WWII, Battle of Berlin, 1945. GerIta and AusHun, also featuring Prussia and Japan.


**Like This**

He supposed, in the end, it was always going to be like this. Maybe not this crumpled up wall behind them. Maybe not Roderich fighting beside him. Maybe not his left leg as the broken one. But it was always going to end in a battle, bloody and violent and idiotic. Ludwig was always going to die in war.

Air sirens were going off all throughout Berlin, as if anyone needed their reminders. The war was lost; everyone in Germany knew it. The only question left was the hour.

Roderich fired over the wall once more before pulling down, leaning against the bricks and stone and rubble beside Ludwig.

"This is the end," the once-proud German nation moaned, his head beginning to swim. He been born of war, and now he would be consumed by war. Violet eyes watched him.

"I thought losing you once, long ago, was the hardest thing I would ever to have to go through," Roderich said. Ludwig's head rolled onto the Austrian's shoulder. "I never thought I would have to let you go twice."

"What will happen to me?" He was young, he knew he was. He was so much younger than the other nations, younger than Alfred or Feliciano or Matthew. There was still so much he had never learned, so much he had never known. Now he would never grow to be one of the older nations.

"They will probably split you up, like they did to Elizabeta and I. But we were two nations acting as one; I do not know what will happen if they split one nation into two." Roderich's voice neither shook nor wavered as he spoke; Ludwig had always appreciated that there was a hidden strength behind his ostentatious exterior. Perhaps it was better this way, being here with Roderich. He wouldn't sugar coat things, wouldn't try and say it would all work out in the end. If it was Ludwig's time, he'd say so and let him go. "Maybe they will split us all up. Feliciano might get away this time, but Gilbert was doing terribly last I saw him. And Kiku, Kiku will never surrender, we both know that.

"I will miss him," Roderich admitted.

They had become a family, slowly, over decades and through wars like no other wars that had come before. Ludwig always felt he had to be strong, had to be the voice of reason and the final arbitrator in all they decided. Gilbert was a good big brother, deep down inside, even if he did sometimes act like the younger sibling. But he kept their spirits up, always ready with a joke. Roderich was the background support, never said much and always threw a fit, but Ludwig needed him there, to know that at least one rational nation was always backing him.

And Elizabeta, oh, she was the closest thing he had ever had to a mother. She still babied him, had even done so last he saw her, but he loved her. Never stopped her. Because it was nice to have someone who could see him when he was weak; she was the only one who ever saw Ludwig cry. She kept all the men in their places, kept their personalities and egos from clashing too much. Always smiled, always had a hopeful tone in her voice. A ray of sunshine, no matter the weather.

It was Feliciano he'd miss the most, Ludwig knew. Feliciano was the one he loved, more than anyone else. Part of him felt like he had always known the sweet Italian nation, always been in love with him. It wasn't fair that they had to meet like this, that he had to be cruel to try and help Feliciano through the war. If he could have protected him, if he could have sent him from the field to begin with and never let him see a dead body, he would have in a heartbeat. Memories of the young man talking in his sleep, nightmares filled with horrors from the day… it used to keep Ludwig up all night, holding the man he loved close until Feliciano could fall back to sleep, then holding him a bit longer on borrowed hours he didn't deserve.

The five of them had become the closest thing to a family that five nations could be. Kiku told Ludwig once after a meeting, that he only regretted being so far away that he could not join in the familial activities they used to have, the cooking and the picnics and the football games. Those had been quieter days at the beginning of the war; to think they had only been a few years earlier.

He hadn't realized Roderich was looking at him, watching him. "What are you thinking about?" Roderich asked.

"Our family," Ludwig whispered, and the other nation nodded. "When will you ever tell Elizabeta that you still love her?"

"When will you ever tell Feliciano that you still love him?"

He hated when Roderich was right, but now was not the time to argue. Now was the time to say his last words, and let the inevitable happen.

"Roderich, please, for me," he started, unsure of where his words were going. But Roderich put their guns at their feet, sitting Ludwig up so he could wrap an arm around the blond's shoulder. "Watch over the family when I'm gone. I know it'll be hard, I know they'll try and split us up, but just… watch them. Make sure Brother doesn't do anything too stupid, make sure he knows I always loved him and wouldn't have traded him for anything in the world. Tell him I died making him proud, going out with a bang, the way he always wanted to go.

"And Elizabeta, tell her she was the one stable point in my life growing up, the one person I could always lean on. Tell her to keep the secrets we shared until the end, not to let anyone know; I want those things to die with her, and hope that that day doesn't come for centuries. She was always the fiercest soldier, the strongest warrior. Hold her when she cries, tell her I don't want her to shed too many tears for me. Kiss her for me, the way she used to kiss my forehead.

"Write to Kiku, tell him the truth. He's on his own now, he probably saw it coming. But he was a good and true friend, and I'm glad I met him. I hope I made him proud, as an ally and as a person. I wish we could have met during happier times.

"But first, find Feliciano. Find him and hold him, he's so afraid of being alone. I promised him forever and I meant it, one day we'll have forever. One day we'll have it…" His face was growing warm, his vision going black. Roderich's grip tightened; he shook him a little.

"What else Ludwig? Tell me what else to tell Feliciano."

"Tell him… tell him I love him. Tell him I have always loved him and I'm sorry I never had the strength to love him back the way he has loved me. Tell him he was always the stronger one. Strength on the battlefield means nothing if you have no strength in your heart; he helped me see that. Hold him and kiss him and tell him that for me, tell him anything he needs to hear, that he was the last thing I thought of, because I know he will be. That his name was the last thing I ever said."

"The last thing," Roderich repeated. "And what words do you have for me, my dearest Ludwig? Do you have anything left to say to me?"

Sad blue eyes found the violet ones, and Ludwig realized Roderich was crying too. Not so much that his face was red and he couldn't speak, the violent tears Elizabeta and Feliciano and maybe even Gilbert would have. Instead the tears rolled down his cheeks like soldiers, silent in a march away from the battle they had lost, to surrender before the victor.

"To you, Roderich… Watch them and take my place. Someone needs to be the strong one, and I cannot do it anymore. Don't let them ever forget how much I loved them, don't let them ever forget how much I gave and how much more I would have given, if it meant I could give them the world.

"And don't you forget either Roderich. I needed you to keep me honest, and you'll need them to keep you honest. You were always like a brother to me, I know you raised that little boy that died on a battlefield long before Brother found me. You always held a special place in my heart from those days, even if I do not remember them. Because you remember them, and I want you to always remember them. Forget the bad days, forget watching me die. Just remember the good days, the picnics and kissing Elizabeta and watching Brother and Feliciano. Can you do that Roderich? Or have I finally asked too much of the world?"

Behind them a bomb went off, closer. A tank was approaching, would probably rip through this wall like it was nothing.

"No, Ludwig, you have not asked too much. I will do all that, I promise. Because you always promised you would come back to me, and in the end, you have."

He should have run then, Ludwig wanted to tell him to run and save himself, to disassociate with the fallen nation starting now. Instead the older man held the younger one, whispered in his ear.

"Three things Ludwig. Three things and I will leave."

Ludwig nodded.

"First, remember until the end that we love you. We always have, and we always will. We will never forget you because you are a part of us."

Ludwig nodded.

"Second," and at this Roderich did the last thing Ludwig was expecting and kissed him, full on, tilting his head back and holding him sweetly. He imagined this was how Elizabeta liked to be kissed.

Then Roderich pulled back, leaving Ludwig to ask, "What was that for?"

"A kiss to carry to Feliciano," Roderich said as if it was the obvious answer. There was no blush on his face, no sign of embarrassment for what he had done. Ludwig knew he meant it, fully intended to carry that kiss to the nation he had only ever wanted to shower with a thousand kisses.

"Third," Roderich said slowly, the tank coming closer. "We raised you to be brave until the end. I expect you to make us proud young man, do you understand?"

Ludwig nodded.

Roderich sighed, looking at the bloody wounds between them. "I am not one for sentimental goodbyes," he whispered, "and so let us leave it at this. Goodbye Ludwig; you were the greatest man I ever knew." Without looking back Roderich picked up the two guns and left, walking lazily toward the last part of Berlin that was securely theirs.

A thousand things Ludwig would have liked to say back, but he supposed it was Roderich who had needed to make his peace. When Ludwig was dead, it wouldn't matter if he had found his.

His mind drifted back to that warm picnic day. Elizabeta had laid atop Roderich, stealing kisses between grapes. Gilbert and Feliciano had played football between the trees until they were exhausted, collapsing on the picnic blanket. Gilbert had doused himself in water before promptly passing out. Feliciano had held out a hand for Ludwig to take, to follow.

He could still hear the water rushing by as they sat by the creak, their bodies too close. Feliciano's arms were around his waist and Ludwig's arms were around his shoulder. When Feliciano had looked up, smiling, his heart nearly burst from his chest. He kissed him, hard, needfully; he hoped the kiss Roderich carried would remind his lover of that day, that kiss, of the need he had always had for Feliciano.

In the end, it was better this way, ending like this.

"Feliciano."

He let the word escape into the night.


End file.
